


Give Me Something

by hivesix (supermatique)



Category: Saving Hope
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:41:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3863740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supermatique/pseuds/hivesix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maggie and Sydney, post-S3 finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I took a couple of creative liberties with the medical system in Canada. I have given the doctors far too much spare time and energy, and made an educated guess about post-residency life. So, not too different from the show itself, ha.

The hospital felt empty without Joel. The gregarious smile, that Kiwi accent, the macho brawling between him and Charlie — all gone in an instant. Life at Hope Z carried on, just like the sands of time, the system moving like clockwork and churning the staff through day in and night out, but there was a gear missing and the mechanism just wasn't right without it. 

Joel's dad had arranged his funeral, and there had been a big turnout at the reception. It had been a classic, somber, perfunctory affair, though, entirely unlike Joel's life, and Maggie and many of the staff who had known him best had gone back to Zach's place afterward and had their own, much more Joel-like reception late into the evening. 

Maggie delivered as many babies as she could and concentrated on the good in life, about the magic in safely bringing a new child into the world, and helping the ones that didn't make it out as smoothly as everyone would've liked. 

The surgical board had her name all over it that day, and when Maggie knocked off work she wanted to be in bed. Immediately. She opened her locker and stared at her regular clothes like she didn't know what to do with them. Her scrubs felt like they were sealed onto her skin. She needed a shower, stat.

“You look tired,” a voice said, and Maggie jumped. Sydney was sitting on the bed, just putting her glasses back on. 

“God, I didn't even see you there. You on nights?”

Sydney nodded. “Long day?”

“And then some.” Maggie stripped down and started to get changed. Sydney averted her eyes. Maggie noticed this, and normally she would have teased or opened the second door to shield her body, but today she had trouble shaking herself out of her stupor. “And now I get to go home to a baby either pooping and crying or sleeping...” she groaned. “Babies are much cuter when they go to someone else's home.”

“Full house, huh?”

Maggie sighed. “Alex and Charlie have been thinking about getting a house, so I'm just killing time until they find something.” She furrowed her brow. “I really need to talk to Dawn about my contract.”

There was a short pause while Sydney watched Maggie pull her sweater and coat on. The temperature was dire outside, and she wasn't looking forward to walking to the station. Then, Sydney said, “I'm going to Edmonton on Tuesday,” she said.

“O-kay.” Maggie's response came out more like a question. “Oh. The symposium, right?” It was a two-day continuing education conference subsidised by the Society. Not many people tended to want to go to Edmonton.

“I have a spare room.”

There was a surprised silence, then Maggie laughed. “What?”

“It's crowded at your place,” Sydney said. “If you want a bit of space for a couple of days, I have that.”

“Huh.” Maggie rocked back on her heels and considered it. “Well, thank you, Dr. Katz. I'll think about it.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” Maggie echoed with some finality. She adjusted the collar of her coat and stepped forward. Sydney stood to meet her. They smiled at each other, and Maggie thought back to kissing Sydney in a room not unlike this one, not so long ago, and wondered where they were now. “See you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” Sydney said. “See you tomorrow.”

-

They didn't cross paths for much of the rest of the week. It was busy, but the good sort of busy, the uncomplicated kind of busy that spurred the day on and restored confidence, where everything Sydney touched turned to gold. Things moved like clockwork in the obstetrics department, with minimal complications. She was on nights till Saturday but that was relatively uneventful, too, and she spent most of it catching up on paperwork and checking her email. 

Come Monday, though, her reprieve was over. By lunch time she had dealt with an emergency C-section, a post-partum complication with placental delivery, and referred a patient to Dr. Dey. It was hectic, and Sydney was looking forward to those two days off. Sure, there wasn't much in Edmonton, but maybe a break would be good. 

She had a check-in with one of her patients next, a woman in her second trimester with breast cancer. Sydney scanned the results of the gene testing — BRCA2 positive — and thought of Maggie. She paged Maggie and headed for the elevator. Maggie had been puting off thinking about her fellowship, preferring to work for a year, but it was definitely time she started putting her application together. One couldn't leave these things too late.

“You paged?”

Sydney looked up. That was fast. Maggie was standing in front of her with a smile on her face, one that immediately made Sydney go on guard. It was that cheeky smile, the one with the slight quirk in the mouth that told her Maggie wanted a _quid pro quo_. 

“Dr. Lin,” she said, somewhat cautiously, deciding that they should probably get it out of the way before the consult. “How was your weekend?”

“I wanted to talk to you about that,” Maggie informed her cheerfully. “I've been thinking about your proposal.”

Ah. Sydney had been thinking about it, too. She'd been surprised by herself, making the offer, but she found herself hoping that Maggie would accept. To what end, she wasn't quite sure. She didn't even know what it was exactly that she wanted from Maggie, by offering use of her home. If she wanted anything from Maggie at all. “And?”

“And I'd love to take you up on it, if it's still on the table.”

“Of course,” Sydney said. “Just let me know when you want to come over. My flight's not till nine thirty.”

Maggie hummed. “All right, great. Thanks.” She glanced around as if to check for eavesdroppers. “Alex and Charlie were trying to do the dirty last night, and it was—” she broke off and grimaced. 

Despite her better judgement, Sydney asked, “Trying?”

“Yeah, they were trying to be quiet, because baby, and then he started crying, and then I stupidly, stupidly had to go to the bathroom, and then Charlie went to get milk from the freezer, which is fine, but he was still naked, so...”

“Oh.”

Maggie heaved a sigh. “Yeah.”

“I have a patient in oncology,” Sydney said, changing the subject. “I thought you might be interested.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said, immediately perking up. The elevator car arrived and they step in together. “If she's happy for me to sit in, sure.”

-

The patient, Paula, was a cheerful thirty-two year old who was supremely unperturbed at having another doctor around. Maggie read the chart after Sydney was done with it and filled herself in after the introductions. The tumour was in the left breast, just shy of two centimetres. Maggie examined the mammogram and the ultrasound as Sydney updated Paula on her test results. 

“I still want a lumpectomy,” Paula said. “I want to breast feed if I can.” 

“Of course,” Sydney said. “Have Dr. Kinney and Dr. Slater spoken to you about your options?”

Paula shook her head. “They were waiting for the results, too.”

“All right.” Sydney held her hand out for the chart and Maggie handed it over. Sydney consulted it one last time and shut it with a smile. “Well, I'll make sure they come and talk to you soon.”

“Would you mind being here when they do?” Paula asked. “I know you're busy, but...”

There's no hesitation when Sydney answered, “I'll be here,” and Paula's relief was palpable.

“You're not so bad with patients after all,” Maggie remarked when she and Sydney left Paula's room. 

“Do you have something to say about my bedside manner?”

Maggie laughed. “No, I just mean you were...” she paused and searched for the right word. Sydney was already glaring at her sideways, which Maggie found amusingly endearing. “Let's say, more personable than usual, with Paula.”

Sydney frowned. “I'm personable with all of my patients.” Off Maggie's look, she rolled her eyes. “I was a resident when she had her first child,” she said. “She almost lost her baby. She kinda... tracked me down when she found out she was pregnant again.”

“Ah, so you're her friend.”

Sydney wouldn't have said that exactly. “She's comfortable with me as her OB, and that generally makes things a lot easier when it's time for the baby to come.”

“Where were you before?”

“Toronto East.”

Maggie halted in the middle of the hallway. Sydney walked a few more paces before she realised Maggie wasn't by her side any more. “You know, I don't know much about you at all, do I?” Maggie said, considering Sydney with a slight tilt of her head. “Even Hershell seemed to know more about me than I do about you.”

Something froze inside Sydney. “What do you mean?” She mentally snapped her fingers at herself, trying to conjure up something to deflect Maggie's all-too-pleased expression. She was about to say something, when Maggie's phone went off.

“Ah, Zach needs me.” Maggie pocketed her phone and headed for the ED. “We'll talk later! This isn't over!”

“Isn't over?” Sydney said to Maggie's retreating back. “What is this, a duel?”

-

Alex looked apologetic and Charlie said, “I hope you don't feel like we're kicking you out,” when Maggie packed a few things to take to Sydney's on Tuesday evening. It was raining quite heavily, and she wondered if she should take another umbrella instead of the cheap knockabout version which would undoubtedly turn inside out at the first gust of wind. 

“No way,” Maggie said, giving Luke a final pinch in the cheeks as a goodbye. “It'll be good. Anyway, she's only gone for two days. We'll be all up in each other's space again before we know it.”

Sydney's apartment was incredibly spacious and clearly underused. It was a beautifully furnished space, with contemporary living and dining suites contrasted by a few traditional Jewish decorations on the walls. There was a painting of the Toronto skyline at night hanging in the hallway, highlighted and framed by a well-placed bulb that brought out the dark blues and spotlights of the canvas. It was homely, welcoming, and almost contrary to the Sydney that Maggie knew from work.

“This is amazing,” Maggie said, dumping her bag on the double bed. “What did you have to moonlight as to afford this?”

Sydney gave Maggie an arch look, choosing to ignore the question. “Is that all you brought?”

“If I'd known this was what your place is like, I would've brought a lot more, trust me.”

Sydney just laughed. She was infinitely more comfortable in her own home, Maggie observed, carrying herself without that almost defensive air. Even her shoulders were more relaxed. Sydney was bundled up in a turtleneck and heavy coat, and her suitcase was by the door. 

“There're spare towels in the cupboard underneath the sink in the bathroom,” she told Maggie, “And help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I think most of it is still okay to eat.”

“There's a recipe for disaster,” Maggie remarked, and then laughed at her pun. “Get it, recipe for disaster?”

Sydney just stared at Maggie like she had two heads. “Here's the key. Don't break anything.”

“I'll be the most perfect houseguest you've ever had.”


	2. Chapter 2

Maggie was jolted from her sleep by a thump on the other side of the wall. She lay awake for a moment, listening intently above the sound of rain lashing against the windows. Thump. There it was again. Someone was definitely moving around, not bothering to make any effort to be quiet. Maggie kept still, tracking the intruder's movements. Thunder cracked overhead. The storm must've picked up since she'd gone to bed. 

She calculated the possibility of someone breaking into Sydney's seemingly secure apartment complex. You wouldn't have thought it likely, but maybe they knew Sydney was going to be away until the weekend, and were taking the opportunity to get a discount on some traditional Orthodox menorahs Sydney probably had somewhere in her polished timber cabinets. 

There was another thump and certain footsteps advancing through the apartment. Maggie swyung her legs out of the bed and squinted in the dark for something she could use as a weapon. There wasn't much in the room: there was a chair — too heavy; a small nightstand — decidedly too impractical in an offensive strategy; the desk was obviously excluded, although it held a decorative metal bookstand that looked like it could do some damage at the right angle. Maggie picked it up and hefted the weight. 

Perfect. 

She crept around the bed to the door and carefully grasped the knob in her palm. The intruder turned a light on, she could see the amber glow from the crack between the door and the carpet. There! A shadow flitted past. She turned the knob, swung the door open, and jumped out into the hallway with a yell that would startle Braveheart—

—only to see a shocked Sydney turn with a scream. Maggie skidded to a halt, arm already in mid-swing and committed, and had to propel herself to one side to avoid braining Sydney in the middle of her living room floor. The bookstand fell to the ground with a dull thud and Maggie froze.

“WHAT are you doing?!” Sydney exclaimed. “Maggie!”

“I thought you were a burglar!”

“Why would—How would a burglar get past the buzzer?!”

“I don't know, do you have a creepy caretaker who likes to snoop around while tenants are away?”

“I'm the landlord,” Sydney sniped, and really — semantics at this time of night?

“Well, sorry for thinking that you were in another province by now, which you were meant to be, therefore if there was someone who wasn't me creeping around, it would've been a burglar, so really you should be thanking me for defending your apartment's honour.”

Sydney got that cute perplexed frown on her face, as she did when Maggie said something that Sydney just couldn't quite figure out why Maggie let out of her mouth.

“All flights out were cancelled,” she said eventually. “Electrical storm.”

As if to back her up, a crack of lightning split the sky in bronchioles. Out of habit, Maggie counted the distance. Ten miles. 

“So... what now?” 

Sydney sighed. “I try to get some sleep without getting hit in the head by a—” she looked down at Maggie's makeshift weapon. “Is that a bookstand?”

Maggie picked it up and shrugged. “I was pretty good at discus in high school.”

Sydney just screwed her eyes shut and shook her head as she headed to her bedroom. “Good night, Maggie. Sorry I woke you up.”

-

“So,” Maggie said later that evening when she got back to Sydney's place. Sydney was sitting at the dining room table with paperwork strewn all around her laptop. “How's this going to work?”

“What?”

“Me in your house.” 

“Well,” Sydney replied, not looking up, “You take the spare room, don't spend too long in the bathroom, and we take turns doing the dishes.”

Maggie was almost impressed. “You've thought about this.”

“I've thought about the practicalities of it, yes.” Sydney did pause, now, and looked up at Maggie. “I made you an offer, I won't take it back.”

“Thanks.” 

When Maggie had settled in, they ordered pizza and a pasta to share from the Italian joint two blocks away and watched Masterchef, one of the many international versions that seemed to perenially be on television. This one had Gordon Ramsay yelling at a dude who looked about two seconds away from throwing a power plug at the judge. But he needed that power plug for the blender, so the camera cut away and move onto the next contestant. 

“What do you like to eat?” Maggie asked during a commercial break. 

Sydney looked over. “Why, can you cook?”

“I make a mean fried chicken,” Maggie said. “Five spice and a bit of garlic—” She imitated the Italian hand gesture and kissed her fingers. 

“I like fried chicken,” Sydney allowed. She reached for the bottle of red wine they had opened earlier and offered to fill Maggie's glass. Maggie declined. “Only if you're free.”

“Tomorrow night. It's a date.” 

She watched to see if Sydney bit, but Sydney just nodded and said, “Sounds good.”

“Good.” Maggie leaned back and snuggled up into her sweater. “So, how come Hershell knows so much about me, hmm?” 

Sydney totally stalled for time by taking another sip of her wine. In the background Gordon was having a conniption over a poorly presented sous-vide chicken. “Hershell knows nothing about you,” she said finally, and very unconvincingly. 

“Syd, I pulled a tapeworm out of his nose. That's something that brings two people really close together.” Maggie turned so she was facing Sydney and draped an arm over the back of the sofa. “But he already knew all this stuff about me. What I like to eat, how I am at work...” Maggie clicked her tongue. “I just don't think there was a fair chance for us to get to know one another when you already told him everything, apparently.”

“We were engaged,” Sydney said, somewhat defensively. “We talked about... things.”

“Including things that happened before you even met him?”

“Hershell was a family friend for five years,” Sydney replied indignantly. “I didn't pick him up off the street.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Maggie joked, but Sydney doesn't take it as such. 

“It's late,” she said, standing and collecting the boxes off the table. “I should get to bed.”

“Sydney—” Maggie sighed, but she was already talking to Sydney's back as Sydney moved swiftly to the kitchen. She took a readying breath and picked up Sydney's wine glass and the bottle while she was at it, following Sydney across the room. She deposited the glasses by the side of the sink and leaned against the bench. “I'm sorry,” she said, as Sydney stubbornly broke down the pizza boxes. “I didn't realise you were still—”

“Still what?” Sydney snapped, crushing the last box a little more firmly than she needed to. 

“—feeling sensitive about the whole thing,” Maggie finished, faltering towards the end. She winced inwardly. “And saying that just made you madder, didn't it.”

“I'm not mad.” 

“You look pretty mad.”

“Well, I'm not.”

“Okay,” Maggie said gently, dropping the matter. She pushed off the bench and brushed past Sydney, and heard a soft, frustrated sigh. 

“Maggie,” Sydney said quietly, catching her wrist. “This is new to me, okay?”

Maggie turned in Sydney's grasp. Sydney's fingers were cool against her wrist, gentle in their touch. “It's new to me, too.”

“You're just so... calm,” Sydney sighed. “About everything. And you've been so supportive. I just thought, if I could help you with something, then...”

“If it makes you uncomfortable to have me here,” Maggie said, “I can go.”

“No,” Sydney said. “It's been...” 

“Nice,” Maggie smiled. She turned Sydney's hand in her own, gently stroking the vein on the inside of Sydney's wrist. She felt Sydney's pulse skip steadily beneath her fingers before she let go. Touching Sydney lightly on the shoulder, she leaned forward and kissed Sydney on the cheek. “Good night.”


	3. Chapter 3

Paula's lumpectomy had been scheduled for that afternoon, so Sydney went in especially and spent some time with Paula before she was taken to the OR. “I'll be right around the corner,” Sydney told her. “They'll page me if anything goes wrong. But you're in the best hands with Dr. Kinney.”

“I know,” Paula replied with a smile. “Where's Maggie? I wanted to tell her thank you before I went in.”

“Dr. Lin's in surgery,” Sydney said. “But I'll let her know you said that.”

“Thank you.” Paula gazed thoughtfully at Sydney and Sydney glanced away, a little uncomfortable under Paula's scrutiny. “She's very nice, Dr. Lin,” Paula said eventually, in a carefully casual tone. 

“She's a good doctor,” Sydney allowed. 

“Mm,” Paula said, “and you're a stubborn one.” Off Sydney's frown, she said, “Maggie told me about what happened between you two.”

Sydney's frown grew deeper even as she felt her face flush. “What did she say?”

“Not a lot,” Paula said, “And from the look on your face, definitely not everything.” She grinned and winked at Sydney as a nurse came in to start prepping her. “You two make a cute couple.”

Flustered, Sydney's mind went blank. “I'll check in with you after your surgery,” she said, falling back on more familiar ground, and practically ran out of Paula's room.

-

Sydney found Maggie standing at the nurses' station filling in a chart, still in her scrubs and cap. She was leaning casually against the station, one hand fiddling with her necklace and the other scribbling down her notes. There was a small furrow at her brow as she wrote, a gentle pout on her mouth. She looked adorable. 

But Sydney was still pissed. 

“What did you tell Paula about us?” she demanded as she marched up to Maggie. 

If Maggie was surprised at Sydney being around, she didn't show it. She just shook her head, not pausing in her writing. “Nothing?”

“Don't give me that.” Sydney slapped her hand down on the chart. Maggie did pause, now, as she regarded Sydney with some mild incredulity. “I don't appreciate my private life being shared with patients.”

“She's your friend.”

“She is still a patient at this hospital.”

Maggie shut the chart and returned it to its slot with a sigh. “I just needed to get some things off my chest. It wasn't about you. I'm sorry if you got that impression.”

She raised her eyebrows and gave Sydney a small smile, chasing after Jackson for a follow up on a Mrs. Jones. Sydney watched her go with a frown, feeling annoyed, confused at her annoyance, and something else she couldn't quite pin down.

-

Sydney vented to Shahir in the doctor's lounge when the unsuspecting neurosurgeon asked her how she was doing. He was taken aback, then congratulated Sydney on her coming out as a gay woman, assured her he wouldn't say a word to anyone — unless, of course, he wanted her to — and that he could recommend to her some highly regarded bisexual or lesbian women if she was so interested.

“You just need a change of scenery, as they say,” he told her, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sydney frowned. “Where would I go?”

“Well, you've only experienced a same-sex relationship with Maggie — excellent choice of partner, by the way — so all of your feelings will be concentrated on her. It is hard for the brain to know how to react to different situations when it has only managed one.” He peered at her. “When I was first coming out, I tried to diversify my feelings as much as possible.”

“I don't know what that means,” Sydney said, but she was already feeling wary about where Shahir's going with this.

“It means that you should go out.” Shahir looked pleased with himself. “There are some excellent ladies-only nights. That I have heard about,” he qualified. “I don't go to those. It wouldn't make sense.”

That was the worst possible thing she could imagine. “I'm not going to a gay bar.”

“It's not a gay bar,” he corrected. “It's a nondiscriminatory bar that holds nights where only women are allowed to enter. Or, men can enter too but they have to pay extra. There's a difference.”

“All things being the same,” Sydney said, just to have a bit of fun, “I'm not going to a gay bar.”

“Then you'll have to tell Dr. Lin how you feel.” Shahir was paged and he stood to leave. “Make the first move. Be direct.”

 _But I have. And we've already made so many moves that even a chess board wouldn't know where it stood._ Sydney sighed and picked at the tab on her takeaway coffee cup and scowled at nothing in particular. 

-

Sydney stayed late at the hospital, finding any and everything she could do to not think about that afternoon. Paula's surgery had gone without complications, and Sydney had just spoken to Dana and selfishly not gone in to check in on Paula herself. Finally, at a quarter to eight, Sydney dragged herself away from a tempting ward round and went home.

Maggie was making her five spiced fried chicken, and she was apparently a very messy cook because there was flour and spice powder all over the bench. “Hi,” she said, when Sydney walked in the door.

“Hi.” Even though she wasn't a hundred percent sure if she wanted to apologise, she just knew she had to, so Sydney said, “I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have gone off at you like that.”

Maggie simply nodded. “Thanks.” She continued what she was doing, flouring the drumsticks methodically and shaking off the excess. The oil wasn't hot enough yet, so she set them on the plate for now and washed her hands while she waited. Her jaw worked, as if she were having a conversation with herself.

“Shahir says I should go to a gay bar,” Sydney then said, completely inanely. It was probably the last thing she should have said, but the air was only civil, not the friendly ease Sydney was used to between them, and the silence was cloying. 

Maggie's reaction was a startled laugh, and it was instantly easier to breathe. “That's something I'd pay to see.”

“So you think I should go.”

Maggie stared at her. “I don't know. Do you want to go to a gay bar?”

“I don't know,” Sydney admitted, “I just... It might help me figure things out, maybe.”

Maggie just shrugged. “You don't need my permission, if that's what you're asking.”

It wasn't. “It's not,” Sydney said, frustration building. Why couldn't she figure out what it is she wanted?

Maggie was silent for a long while. Then, she turned to Sydney and sighed, “What are we doing here, Sydney? What are we, even?”

Sydney didn't have an answer for that.

Maggie chewed on her lip. “Okay,” she said finally, as if she were explaining something to a child, tongue pressed against her cheek as she searched for her next words. “We don't have to _be_ anything. But we are something. Do you realise that?”

It's not that Sydney thought they were nothing. She just didn't know what to do or how she felt about that something. But she couldn't articulate that in a way that would make sense out loud, so she just nodded. 

“I like you,” Maggie continued, placing the drumsticks in the oil now and turning the fire down a little bit. “And I know you're figuring it all out and you've got your family to think about, but I need to know where I stand.” She turned of all her attention to the chicken, turning them probably too often and staring at it perhaps a little more intently than was required. She played with the tongs, snapping the grips together with a grating _tink tink tink_. 

Everything became so clear in hearing those words. Sydney had been so caught up in how she felt about Maggie, so afraid that Maggie didn't feel half as much as what she felt that she hadn't... “I haven't been fair to you,” she realised. 

“What else did Shahir say to you?” Maggie didn't quite roll her eyes, but it was in her voice.

“Nothing important,” she replied faintly. 

Maggie put the tongs down and moved closer to Sydney, so close that they were standing within a hand's breadth of each other. 

Sydney stiffened. The oil was bubbling lightly in the pan. It was probably going to boil over, so shouldn't Maggie be paying attention to it? “What are you doing?”

Maggie just placed her hand on Sydney's waist, careful not to put too much pressure into her touch, and stepped even closer. Sydney felt hot, and stayed absolutely still. Maggie slipped her hand around Sydney's waist and brushed back the hair covering Sydney's neck with her other hand, and gently pressed a kiss to the crook of Sydney's jaw. Sydney's breath trembled on the exhale, and she felt Maggie smile in response. 

Maggie rubbed her thumb softly over Sydney's waist. “Showing you how much I like you.” She stopped and pulled away slightly. “If that's okay.”

It was just a bit too close, and Sydney felt a brief panic seize her, but Maggie's eyes were patient, her gaze kind, and Sydney couldn't think of why it wouldn't be okay. She reached up with both hands, pulling Maggie down and kissing her. 

Fucking finally. Sydney couldn't remember why she'd been so hesitant, when Maggie's mouth was warm, her lips soft, and she kissed Sydney with a concentrated attentiveness, as if Sydney were a candle she was lighting with only one match left.

It grew even warmer when Maggie wrapped both arms around Sydney's waist, drawing up the back of her blouse and slipping her hands underneath. Her fingers were cool, still a little damp from the water, and Sydney shivered. They'd gotten this far, in the on-call room all those months ago, and Sydney had stopped Maggie then. Now, though, with Maggie in her apartment, anything could happen and there was no reason why they should stop. 

Except for the oil beginning to pop and sizzle in the pan. 

“Maggie,” she mumbled, “the chicken.”

Maggie groaned and pulled away. She turned the fire off and quickly picked the drumsticks out of the pan, setting them on a clean plate. She moved the pan to the farthest hob and turned back to Sydney. “Where were we?”

Sydney laughed as Maggie swept her back up into her arms. “Dinner's going to get cold.”

“Forget dinner,” Maggie groused, kissing Sydney again and swallowing any protest she might've had.

-

Maggie woke to find the bed empty. She followed the smell of coffee and found Sydney in the kitchen, hair down and still in pyjamas, which was kind of the cutest thing Maggie had ever seen.

“Morning,” Sydney said with a dry smile, slipping two pieces of bread into the toaster with one hand and sipping from a mug with the other. “I almost expected you to walk out brandishing another bookstand.”

“Ha ha,” Maggie retorted, but she couldn't help but smile as well. She sat down on one on one of the bar stools behind the counter. “Is that coffee?”

Sydney poured Maggie a mug and handed it over. Maggie deliberately brushed her fingers against the back of Sydney's hand as she took it, and grinned as Sydney glances down with a quick smile. “Breakfast?” Sydney asked.

“Yes. Feed me.”

“Eggs?”

“Only unfertilised.”

She was expecting Sydney to roll her eyes or sigh, but she got a short chuckle, instead. “I think we're okay on that,” Sydney said. “Scrambled?”

“Sure.”

“Get the milk?”

Maggie obligingly hopped down from the stool — wondering briefly if Sydney ever sat on them because they were quite high — and padded over to the refrigerator. “So,” she said, as she took the milk out of the fridge and shut the door, “Last night was pretty fun.”

Sydney tried to suppress a smile and failed miserably. “Are you going to brag about it for the next twenty-four hours?”

“Of course not,” Maggie replied. “Thirty-six, at least. I gotta cover the night shift, too.”

Sydney looked up, horrified, before she caught on. “You're an ass,” she said. “I should tell Dawn to send you far away.”

“Too late,” Maggie said cheerfully, nudging Sydney with her hip. “She extended my contract yesterday. You're stuck with me for another year.”

“You didn't tell me that.”

Maggie made a face. “We were a little busy with more important things.”

“Still.”

“All right.” Maggie leaned over Sydney and said into her ear, “Hey Sydney, Dawn renewed my contract,” and punctuated it by swiping her tongue over Sydney's earlobe. The fork Sydney was using to beat the eggs slipped against the bowl and Maggie laughed. “Better?”

“You're still an ass,” Sydney said, but she didn't bother to hide her smile this time.


	4. Epilogue

“Have you decided about what you're doing?”

Maggie perked up a little bit, acutely aware of how her body responded to Sydney's proximity these days. She obligingly moved over to give Sydney more space at the sink. 

“Assist you on a cervical cerclage?” she said, scrubbing at her hands and forearms with soap. They were prepping for surgery, so she wasn't quite sure what Sydney was asking. She straightened a little, forgetting to fully bend her elbows, and water ran down her bicep. She hated that.

“I meant for your fellowship. Did you get my email?”

“I haven't even thought about what I'm having for dinner tonight.” 

“Maggie.” Sydney's tone was chastising.

Maggie sighed. “I got your email. I'm thinking onco. Maybe.” She let the water run off her arms and stepped away from the sink. “Okay, doctor?”

Sydney just rolled her eyes. “Why don't you have dinner with me? Tonight,” Sydney tacked on hastily. “Save you having to think about it.” There was a slight narrowing of her eyes and an emphasis on the verb that made Maggie think that Sydney was making some sort of jab about her and _thinking_. 

Might as well play along. “Sure. Crab Shack again?” She guffawed and headed into the OR. “Kidding! I know a great place that does the best spicy pork. So good.” She winked at Sydney over her shoulder for good measure as the tech presented her with her gown.

“That's getting real old, Lin,” Sydney called through the gap as the door swung shut, but her tone wasn't aggrieved. “Real old.”

-

Just like they were doing almost every night now, Maggie and Sydney walked out together. They bumped into Alex and Charlie, who were on the way to getting some easy takeaway from the Chinese place down the road. 

“Why don't you join us?” Alex offered, and Maggie shot a questioning glance at Sydney, who shrugged, and eventually they all ended up back at Alex's and Maggie's apartment armed with lo mein and crispy dumplings.

After dinner, they went into Alex's room and cooed over where Luke was sleeping fitfully in his cot, his little fists and feet half-heartedly kicking and punching some invisible foe. He was very, very cute.

“How is he doing?” Sydney asked. Maggie had since moved back into her own room, and so Sydney was hearing bits and pieces about the adventures of baby Luke, but it was the first time Sydney had actually spent time with Alex's baby.

“Great,” Charlie offered with a small grin. “Much less disruptive than his namesake.”

“Ha ha,” Alex said. “My boobs hurt so much, though. I seriously was not expecting to have to pump so much.”

“There's an entire drawer in the freezer dedicated to breast milk,” Maggie told Sydney as they headed back into the living room. “It's like chicken stock, but... human.” 

Sydney just shook her head. “Why do you say these things?” 

Maggie cracked open a fortune cookie in response. “ _When all else seems to fail_ ,” she read, “ _smile for today and just love someone_. Not bad.”

“That's deep,” Charlie said, reaching for one himself. “ _You are careful and systematic in your business arrangements_.” He made a face. “Not so deep.”

“My turn!” Alex opened hers. “ _A handful of patience is worth more than a bushel of brains_.”

“A bushel of brains?” Maggie cracked up laughing. “What kind of imagery is that?”

Alex shook the last cookie out of the packet. “Lucky last,” she said, handing it to Sydney with a flourish.

Sydney carefully unrolled the greasy bit of paper. “ _You are just beginning to live_.” It struck home a little harder than she would've liked, and she glanced up ready to laugh it away, it was just a stupid fortune cookie and they never said sensible things, but when she found Maggie looking at her with a small smile and kind eyes, she slipped it into her pocket and said, “I'm going to keep this one.”


End file.
